Black Holes and Revelations
by RipleyReprised
Summary: Quistis struggles to maintain her composure during the worst night of her life. In-game, drabbley one-shot.


_**EN:**__Don't own 'em, just write about 'em. Since this is the first piece of fanfiction I have written in a decade, it's really more of a practice piece, to get the feel of fiction once more. It's really the first non-academic work, non-press release I have written in about the same amount of time. Gosh, I've missed it!_

The uncomfortable feeling that settled around Quistis' shoulders was undefinable. As she followed Squall down the hall and away from the training centre she searched her fatigued brain for an appropriate description.

'Awkward' didn't quite cut it. Nor did 'embarrassed' or 'painful.' The closest she could come up with was 'the feeling one gets when one has been emotionlessly rejected for the eleventh time in one day and by the person whom one most hoped would never be the rejecter.'

Quistis doubted it would ever make the dictionary.

Just before they reached the bridge into Balamb Garden's main artery, she sighed and stopped. It had been more than a day.

A glance at Squall told her that he didn't know why the woman in the training centre had known both of their names either. She was too tired to deal with all of the questions arising from the older woman's sudden appearance. It was obvious she wasn't a SeeD but she wasn't young enough to be a cadet. What had she been doing there?

The strangeness of the episode bothered Quistis but not enough to motivate her to do anything about it right then. Making a mental note to mention it to Xu the next day, she shook her head and reluctantly turned to the male standing a few feet away. His arms were folded and his expression was ruthlessly blank. He was staring into the empty space above her right shoulder.

For a second, she almost felt like throwing up. Or crying. Maybe both. Instead, she straightened her shoulders and forced back the looming tears and bile. Her current predicament was her own dumb fault. This was nothing more than what she deserved.

"Squall." Her voice was quiet and too breathy. She cleared her throat and tried again. "It's not like everyone can get by on their own, you know?"

If she had been hoping he finally would acknowledge her words, and her attempt to reach out, she would have been disappointed. Quistis was no longer under any such illusion. She knew when to fold. Biting her lip, she lifted her chin and walked away. She made it all the way into the main hall without looking back. She had no idea if he even looked up to watch her pass. Her instincts told her he hadn't.

Unfortunately, the further she got from him, the worse she felt. Each long stride was one more hammer against her battered self-esteem. She told herself she had at least escaped with a slip of dignity, even if it was a small one.

It was a lie. Her heart was broken. There was no energy left for pride.

The misery of that thought threatened to knock her over before she could reach the security of her dorm room. Quistis clenched her fists and picked up the pace. She felt the disproving glare of the Garden Faculty on her back as she half-ran down the walkway. Let them frown. Let them write her up for failing to deport herself in a manner befitting a SeeD, or whatever the damn regulation stated. She no longer cared.

That was a lie, too. She almost laughed as she shoved her key card into the lock of her door.

She did care. Oh, how she cared.

Quistis cared so much she knew the exact wording in the SeeD manual of the regulation prohibiting running in the halls. She knew every word typed on every page and had done so since age fifteen. The hefty book was her constant companion back then. Every night leading up to the final exam she would recite passages to herself as she undressed. If she forgot a line, she dedicated the next hour to memorizing it all over again before she would let herself fall asleep.

For all the good that had done her. She didn't remember much about her life before graduation, but she remembered hiding in the library after curfew, risking detention, just so she could reference one more item for a long-forgotten paper. Back then, she spent more time with books than with any human friend.

And wasn't that just so _pathetic_?

Quistis stood glaring at her desk, unable to move. She knew she should probably clean up, get changed, and then go to bed. Her boots were sticky with grat juice. Hair had fallen from her clip to rest heavily against her cheek. There was an unidentifiable substance on the front of her skirt. She knew she probably smelled.

Shower, pyjamas, bed. Her body usually performed the mindless routine itself. Tonight it was as if her hands had forgotten how to remove the long gloves from her arms.

Spinning around, she walked back out the door. She had no particular destination in mind, just knew she couldn't remain in her room, looking at nothing but empty walls and feeling nothing but failure.

Her legs carried her back toward the bright lights of the central concourse. The fountains tinkled and flicked ahead. She walked without thinking of anything but the desire to move. Not being able to stomach the thought of returning to the hall where she had left Squall, she turned her feet toward the quad. Perhaps some fresh air would reduce the acid swirling inside of her.

It was late. Well beyond midnight, she dimly recalled, long after curfew when cadets and SeeDs were required to be in bed. The rules didn't apply to instructors, however. Over the past year, Quistis had become accustomed to the freedoms her new position granted.

Of course, she wasn't an instructor anymore. It should have surprised her when a stern member of the Faculty didn't obstruct her path. If she had taken the time to ponder it, she may not have been as startled when a sneering voice called out to her as she strode down the steps and past a thick tree.

"Shouldn't you be getting your beauty sleep, Instructor? Did they call you out of bed just to drag me to detention?"

Quistis almost groaned when she saw the tall and overly familiar form of Seifer Almasy approach from the other side of the tree. A ruby dragon would have been more welcome, in her eyes. Other than Squall, he was the last person she wanted to see right now. Or ever, if it came to that.

"I'm flattered," he said, wearing the same annoying smirk he always donned.

"No." She spoke with resignation, crossing her arms over her chest. "I don't even want to know what you did this time."

It struck her as distressing how a day could begin with such promise and then end so miserably. She had woken up in nervous anticipation of the day's field exam. Now that it was all over and she was looking Seifer in the eyes, she felt like an idiot to have been so hopeful.

Silly, silly girl.

Smirk still in place, the young man resumed his former position against the tree. He turned his face away from her.

"Then you can leave. I didn't come out here for another boring lecture."

"I'm not…" Her voice trailed off. She was too tired for this. "Forget it."

Turning around, Quistis was about to head back to her bare walls when his voice stopped her a second time.

"You're not what? Boring? Or going to give me a lecture? How else does Instructor Trepe spend her free time? Don't tell me I missed the memo and there is a fucking Trepie meeting here tonight."

She knew she should keep walking. Ensnaring herself in a conversation with Seifer when emotionally exhausted was about as useful as fighting a T-rexaur without junctioning status magic. He was a bully. Nasty for nasty's sake. Quistis had learned this lesson over and over again. Yet she still found herself walking back down the steps and facing him head-on.

Glutton for punishment, much?

"After the mess you made of the exam today, you aren't really in a place to be throwing around insults, Seifer." She raised an eyebrow. "Nor should you be inciting the wrath of the Faculty. You are in enough trouble as it is."

"Blah, blah, fucking blah." He was looking directly at her now and glaring, eyes snapping in the dim lamplight. "This isn't a classroom. Save your bullshit for someone who cares."

_Then go talk to a wall…_

Squall's cold words from earlier droned through her brain once more. The dismissive gesture Seifer waved in her direction was too similar for Quistis to bear.

She felt her throat clog as she watched him pull out a small box wrapped in cellophane. Her brow furrowed not at his actions but in an effort to keep her thoughts ordered. Her eyes remained on his hands while she reined in her bouncing emotions. Half of her felt like punching him in the face. The other half felt like melting to the ground and weeping.

If Seifer noticed her intense scrutiny he didn't say anything. He tossed the cellophane wrapper to the side, not looking to see where it fell. Holding a cigarette in one hand, he returned the package to his coat pocket and pulled out a lighter with the other.

It was the click of the flint that broke her from her temporary paralysis. With arms tightly folded against her torso, she watched him take a long drag and then lean further back against the tree. She tilted her head to the side.

"I didn't know you smoked."

The man shrugged, blowing smoke in her direction. On purpose, she was sure.

"If you are going to do that in front of me, you could at least share." She dropped her arms and held out one hand.

Both of Seifer's eyebrows lifted and she felt almost proud of the fact she'd clearly surprised him. For once he wasn't scowling at her. As a point for her team, it was weak. She would take it.

Without speaking, he dug around in his pockets again and held out a second cigarette and the lighter. She took them also without saying anything and then sat down on the bench in front of him to light up. When she took her first pull, she made sure to turn around to face him to hand back the lighter. Quistis waited until he bent down to take it before releasing the smoke in his face.

"Huh," he grunted, standing back up. "Who knew Little Miss Perfect Instructor had a bad side? Guess she isn't so damn perfect after all."

There was something in his tone that made her shoulders hunch together. She took another drag before putting the cigarette out on the side of the bench. Her point was proven. No need to give herself cancer as well.

"You say that like it's a good thing."

"There are worse things."

"Not when you're a SeeD." She placed her elbows on her knees, leaning her chin on her hands. His gaze was a weight on the back of her head.

"Is that why you look like shit? Just discovered you're not perfect? I've been trying to tell you that for months." He laughed then, not his usual angry chuckle, but an actual laugh, as if he was sincerely amused. "What finally tipped you off?"

The difference in the sound caused her to look up.

"Fuck, Instructor! Wake up! You're just as much of a failure as everyone else!" His laughter continued to echo over the quad.

Quistis fiddled with the unlit cigarette in her hand and wondered if she hadn't been too hasty in putting it out. She sure could use the distraction right now.

Typically, when Seifer mocked her like this, she felt irritated. Even when she knew better he was always able to goad her into saying things she would regret. He was an expert at getting her frustrated enough to sink to his level. However, on this night, quite possibly the worst one of her life, all she felt was more depressed.

The strong scent of smoke and something else she couldn't name penetrated her senses. Glancing in over, she realized Seifer was now leaning on the back of the bench. She figured he was probably trying to intimidate her by standing so close. It wasn't easy, but she resisted the urge to shift away.

"You didn't answer my question."

"I wasn't aware you had asked me one."

His chuckle grated. Turning around, he swung himself up and over the bench so that he was seated on the metal rest beside her. Quistis calculated how much force would be required to tip the whole thing over and send him sprawling.

"What, my dear instructor," he drawled, "made you realize you're no better than anyone else?"

She bit the inside of her cheek and studied the heavy black boots settled next to her thigh. Rather than flipping the bench, she decided it would be much easier to flip the man, especially since she'd have the advantage of surprise. All it would take is one quick movement with an arm and he'd be landing on his head. Or ass. It was childish, she knew, but the thought brought comfort.

Her sigh was long.

"I was demoted," she said, tonelessly.

"Seriously?" Seifer stepped off the bench, spoiling her fantasies of public humiliation.

He stood in front of her with that stupid smirk on his face again. Quistis was sure he had other facial expressions in his repertoire. He just never pulled them out when she was in the room.

"So the Faculty finally clued in to how mediocre of an instructor you are, huh? Only took them a year." He snorted. "I always figured you'd only got the job because you put out for Cid. Did you start refusing to suck his dick?"

It took all of Quistis' strength to remain seated. She refused to be baited. She would let him pour his insults over her and then she would leave. At least, this is what she told herself. A recognizable gleam appeared in his eyes when she remained silent.

"Or was it the Trepies that fucked you over? Did that whiny shithead in the front row post one too many pukey love letters on the Garden Square? Maybe they complained about your disgusting crush on Leonheart. Is that it? Did the Faculty find out Garden's most perfect instructor is in love with her student?"

Her hand was in a fist and plowing into his solar plexus before she even noticed she was on her feet. Before Seifer even noticed, apparently, if his shocked expression was anything to go by. The impact wouldn't have hurt him nearly so much if he had been prepared. The fact that she had stunned him twice in one night almost gave her more satisfaction than the violent act itself.

Seifer stumbled back, barely catching himself from falling on the cobblestone. Holding one hand to his stomach, he bowed his head and she couldn't see his face.

Almost instantly, she felt like a jerk. The guilt piled upon her already mortified spirit and left her standing there, slightly gobsmacked.

Fortunately, the pounding regret only lasted a few seconds. She saw his shoulders start to shake and she realized it wasn't due to pain. It was due to laughter.

"What the heck is so terribly amusing?"

"You." He looked up at her and grinned. "Defending your precious Squally-poo. What a noble knight in shining armour you make. Does he know he's the damsel in distress of your pathetic fairy tale?"

Feeling in control of her emotions once more, Quistis lifted her chin.

"Jealous, Seifer?" She reached out with one hand and patted him on the cheek. "It doesn't become you."

Smiling, she was about to withdraw her hand when his shot up and wrapped around her wrist. Her eyes narrowed.

"Of you? Hardly. Leonheart's not my type." He sneered the words, face a mask of derision.

It wasn't until her eyes met his that she became aware of just how close they were standing. Her skin twisted under his fingers. Almost idly, she wondered if she would have a bruise there later. Her training and experience as a SeeD had always given her confidence in her physical abilities. She hadn't worried about holding her own in a physical fight for years. For a fraction of a second, under Seifer's forceful grip, she felt about thirteen years old again.

"Could've fooled me." Quistis wrenched her hand away. The knowledge that she wouldn't have been able to if he hadn't willingly released his hold made her uneasy. Despite that, she refused to give him the satisfaction of stepping back.

"You spend enough time with him these days."

"You keeping tabs on me, Instructor? I didn't know you cared." He turned around to face the staging area, his face now in shadow.

"Someone has to. You certainly don't do a very good job of looking after yourself."

There was no response and Quistis sighed. She folded her arms, watching the shifting of the man's shoulders. Not for the first time, she wondered why she was still talking to him. Her next question escaped her lips before she knew she had the desire to ask it.

"Why did you do it, Seifer? You could have passed. I know it. You know it. Why didn't you?"

"You know shit." The words were quiet but uttered with such ferocity he may as well have yelled them. He made a wide gesture with his arm and turned around, practically snarling.

"Garden's never going to pass me. I could follow every damn order, kiss every damn ass, and salute until my fucking forehead has a fucking _dent _and they will still fail me every single fucking time."

"That's not true!"

"Yes. It is. Are you really that oblivious? I'm never going to be a SeeD because they-"

"They?" Quistis cut him off. "To whom are you referring?"

"Them! Garden! The greedy dumbasses that care more about filling their pockets than getting anything done. The bastards who talk shit about saving the world, convincing fucking _kids _they are going to be heroes but really they're just brainwashed peons learning how to kill so _they _can buy a third summerhouse on Mandy-fucking-Beach!"

Throughout his rant, Seifer paced around the small section of the quad. He stopped when he stood in front of a tree and lashed out with a fist. Though the bark no doubt abraded his skin when it made contact, he didn't wince.

Quistis took a step forward, lowering her arms.

"I know you are frustrated. But I am sure the headmaster-"

"Cid?" He punched the tree again before veering around. "He's no better than anyone else. He spouts all this _bullshit_ about thinking for yourself and fighting for humanity but when it comes down to it he's just another fucking minion with no balls."

She frowned and opened her mouth to refute his statement but he interrupted her once more.

"Give it up, Instructor." Scowl fading, his voice took on its more common sarcastic quality. "Garden is just a money-making machine. The only ones who make SeeD are those like dickhead Leonheart who don't care and don't question or those like you and Chicken-wuss who actually believe in their fantasy hero crap. There's no room for people like me here."

A troubled student. That's what Quistis had always called him when asked by others. Seifer was filled with scores and scores of potential, at least as much as Squall and quite likely more. He just never seemed capable of fulfilling it or directing it down an acceptable path.

Worrying her bottom lip, she studied him as he stood in front of her now. He didn't appear disturbed or irrational, only angry. She wished she could easily dismiss everything he'd said. Her loyalty to Garden was firm but hadn't there been moments when even she had to question…

Quistis shook her head. She couldn't let him get to her. It had been a wicked day, that's all. She was just tired.

"Be careful, Seifer," she warned, her tone sounding more threatening than she had intended. "Your words reek of sour grapes."

"Of course you'd think that." Seifer's expression was unreadable. He shrugged a shoulder then sauntered over to the bench. "Whatever."

That word, she thought, would haunt her forever. She raised an eyebrow as he lounged on the bench, legs stretched so far they almost reached the toes of her boots.

"I always figured you were another mindless drone. Do you always believe everything you are told?"

"No, but I do believe in Garden." She rolled her shoulders. "I believe in the headmaster. I believe what we do makes a difference, even if some people get hurt. I believe in making sacrifices. I believe in Squall and Zell and… And you."

His laugh was bitter.

"Is that supposed to be motivational? No wonder you were demoted, if that's the best you can come up with. Am I supposed to cream my pants now" He affected a high-pitched voice. "Oh my Hyne! Instructor Trepe believes in me! Eee!"

All she could do was stare at him.

"Do you have to be such an asshole all the time? Why do you hate me so much?"

"Fuuuucck, Instructor. Can you hear yourself?" Seifer leered and leaned forward on the bench, mimicking her. "'Why do you hate me so much?' Sad. The real question is why you care so much about what I think."

"I _don't_ care," said Quistis, wishing it was the truth and not understanding why it wasn't. "I am just kind of sick of being insulted every five seconds."

She tucked her mussed hair behind an ear and cursed the self-conscious feeling that crept up the back of her neck.

"Bullshit. You're a horrible liar." He was grinning at her. Again. "All you care about is what others think. It's why you're always walking around with that bitchy expression. But the thing is, the more you try to be perfect, the less people can stand to be around you."

"I don't recall asking your opinion." Her eyes were as icy as her tone.

Unfortunately, Seifer was infuriatingly immune to her frostiest glare. He went on like she had said nothing.

"You're always getting all prissy whenever someone does something inappropriate. When are you going to get it that it doesn't fucking matter? It doesn't matter what you believe or say. Garden doesn't care."

"So what? So what if they don't? I do!" Her face was heating up and she ordered herself to calm down.

"Yes, you do. And that's something else I don't get." He was standing now, looking down at her with an odd glint in his eyes. "It bothers you that you've killed people. That's why you have to yammer on about the greater good and all that sickening crap. Most SeeDs don't give a behemoth's ass about whether it's a monster or a person they are blasting with magic. You do. Why"

"Not everyone is as self-centred as you. Most people realize there are consequences for their actions." Her hands went to her hips and she met his stare.

"Don't give me that bullshit response. You really do believe that everyone is naturally good, don't you? If it turns out Garden is just a big cash grab it means you've killed people for no good reason and you couldn't live with that, could you? That's what your problem is."

"Her problem is much greater than that, I am afraid."

The intruding voice caught Quistis more off-guard than it should have. A glance at Seifer told her he'd probably already known the member of the faculty was there. He remained in one place while she instinctively took a few steps forward. Her pulse hammered faster than necessary and the queasiness returned.

"Sir." She saluted the approaching faculty member and stood at attention.

"SeeD Trepe. I trust you know what time it is." The faculty stopped in front of her, glaring at the two of them.

"Yes, Sir." Actually, she had no idea.

"Cadet Almasy," the faculty turned to Seifer, gesticulating wildly. "I trust the disturbance at the front gate this evening was your doing."

"Feh." Seifer lifted his arms above his head and folded them behind his neck. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Quistis wanted to kick him for his insolence. He blamed Garden for being against him but the reason he'd never pass the SeeD exam was obvious to her. It was all about attitude and he had it in spades.

"Nonetheless," the faculty continued, "you are required to report to the disciplinary room at eight hundred hours."

She heard him swear under his breath behind her.

"I have an alibi," he argued. "I've been here with my Instructor the whole time."

"Hmmm. Except the person you call your instructor is not, in fact, an instructor, and is also disobeying the rules."

Quistis cringed internally. The puff of breath that escaped Seifer's mouth told her he hadn't been expecting that.

Great, she thought, may as well top off her humiliation with a sucker punch to her glass jaw.

"You are dismissed, Cadet."

His shoulder brushed hers as he passed on his way out of the quad. She refused to look over at him. It had been enough degradation for one night. His footsteps thumped up the steps and away. Only then did Quistis feel up to lifting her eyes.

"SeeD Trepe." The faculty focused his stare on her once more. "Let this serve as a reminder that you are no longer above the rules. You will also be required to report to the disciplinary room at the same time. You will be in charge of supervising Cadet Almasy's detention."

"But, Sir!"

Her protests were waved off.

"Since you seem so fond of one another's company, I didn't think you'd mind. Dismissed."

"Yes, Sir." With a salute, she broke her stance and stepped away.

"Oh, and SeeD?"

"Sir?" She winced before turning back around. The desire to run was strong.

"Headmaster Kramer seems to think you have great abilities. If you want to be worthy of his recognition, you'll have to prove yourself. Dalliances of this variety are not becoming in someone of your rank."

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir."

He nodded as a way of discharging her.

It was all she could do not to fly up the steps and over the bridge. Straightening her shoulders and keeping her chin level, Quistis returned to her dorm. Mercifully, the halls were empty. Her boots felt heavy but they barely made a sound as she walked. Her door opened with a muted hum and she stepped inside.

Alone at last.

She contemplated just falling into bed but knew she'd regret it in the morning so she forced herself to undress and wash her face first. She'd deal with her mess of hair when she woke up. A quick peek at the clock on her bed stand told her that would be in about four hours.

She lay on her back in her single bed and closed her eyes. She ordered her buzzing brain and jumping stomach into silence.

Naturally, both brain and stomach were insubordinate. With all she had experienced over the last twenty-four hours it was absurd to think she could keep her mind still. Turning over on her side to face the wall, her eyes opened and traced the vague shadows let in from the window. It occurred to her that she had forgotten to close her blinds. Since rising seemed like too much work, she figured she had more important things to worry over than any would-be passers by. Her mind flooded with a myriad of questions.

Who was that woman in the training centre? How did she know Quistis' and Squall's names when neither had ever seen her before? What had a civilian been doing in the training centre, anyway? What's more, what exactly were those monsters doing there? Quistis had read up on Granaldos but hadn't actually encountered one before. Were they some sort of new addition to the species inhabiting Garden? Were they linked to the woman's strange appearance? It seemed too random to be otherwise. While the academy's administration was often researching alternatives to the zoological contingent of Grats and T-Rexaurs, she wasn't aware of any concrete changes. As an instructor she should have been among the first to know about such a massive expansion. It was far too dangerous to set loose two new monsters without at first preparing the students. It just didn't make any sense.

She ran a hand through her loose hair and flipped around to her other side, unable to get comfortable.

Not that cadet safety was her responsibility any more. Sighing, Quistis closed her eyes again, scrunching the pillow under her head. If she thought about it too much, she knew she would start to cry but now that she was alone, it was ridiculous to think she could stop the tears that built up under her lashes. Rolling to her stomach, she shoved her face into the pillow to muffle a sob.

Why? The question repeated itself over and over again. The answer was obvious: she simply wasn't good enough. For that last twelve months she had done nothing but focus on her work, spending every waking minute of every day either creating lesson plans or coming up with new ways to reach her more challenging students. No matter how much sleep she lost or how much of her energy she sacrificed, it wasn't enough. The disappointed expression that had settled on the headmaster's face as he gave her the news was one she wouldn't ever forget. She knew he had put himself on the line with the faculty when she received her promotion in the first place. Her fellow instructors had made her more than aware they didn't think she was experienced enough to have earned her new title. Instructor Aki had bluntly told her one more than one occasion that he suspected her position had more to do with her gender than her skills. She had wanted so much to prove them all wrong.

Scrubbing away her tears with the back of her arm, Quistis shifted onto her back. Crying wouldn't help. It was her emotions that had gotten her into this situation in the first place. She didn't know why she found it so difficult to compartmentalize her feelings. It should be a simple matter of aligning her thoughts up with the task at hand. When on a mission, she knew how to keep distractions at bay, knew how to focus, how to follow orders, how to strategize for the most efficient use of resources, and how to get things done with minimal damage. For some reason, she couldn't view the classroom in the same objective manner. Her students were more than just mission subjects or grades on a computer screen. They were people she saw every day, children with hopes and dreams of their own. She would never be able to look at their faces without caring. It was why she had wanted to be an instructor in the first place. Apparently, it was also what made her completely wrong for the job.

As she stared at the ceiling tiles, her mind drifted to Seifer Almasy. There was an unfriendly subject. It was kind of tragic how she had initially sought a listening ear in a favourite student only to find it with the man who was probably her least preferred companion in the world. Though, in a way, it was fitting. They day had begun with promise for the both of them, only to end in abject failure. With whom else would be better to drink away one's sorrows?

Similarities in situation aside, she was definitely not looking forward to supervising his detention in the morning. That was a job she had performed many times in the last year and it was always trying at the best of times. Now that her title had been stripped she did not doubt he would show her even less respect than he had in the past, if that was possible. She had no idea how she was going to face him after their earlier conversation. Talk about awkward, she thought.

The use of that word immediately reminded Quistis of her earlier use of the term as well as all of the awful memories associated with it. Dealing with Seifer's attitude was nothing when compared with the idea facing Squall Leonheart again.

Quistis curled up under the blankets and squeezed her eyes shut. She wished she never had to leave the confines of her bed. Maybe she would be lucky and a meteor would fall on Garden in the middle of the night. Or maybe a rogue wave would wash up on Balamb's shores and drown everyone. She spent the next three hours praying for an apocalypse. It didn't have to be a big one, just large enough to wipe out Garden for all eternity. Her thoughts serpentined between longing for death and plotting out ways she could escape the inevitable. Lost in the darkness of her mind, she didn't notice her room had grown lighter as the sun rose outside her window. When her alarm clock clanged beside her, she jumped, almost wondering if her prayers had been answered.

Lifting the comforter from over her head, she winced as she realized that despite her most fervent hopes, morning had indeed arrived. It was do or die and unfortunately, she couldn't justify the latter. Somehow, she would have to endure.

Luckily, years of discipline would give her the courage she needed to face the day. Step one: get out of bed. Step two: report to the disciplinary room. If she looked at it that way there was a chance she would get through without losing her composure in public. In the end, demotion or no demotion, she was a SeeD. They hadn't taken that away from her.

Straightening her shoulders, she stood up and saluted herself in the mirror on her bedroom door. In her mind, SeeD methods could be applied to any task. She would put on her uniform, junction a GF, forget her personal problems, and accomplish her mission.

So help her, Hyne.


End file.
